In the Shadow of the Moon
by Angel0624
Summary: "My feet pounded the soft earth as rain spit upon me, as so many others had. I could hear his yelling, it barreled around my ears; falling into my skull and murdering my brain. But, I had to keep running. Now, it was the only thing I could do; I couldn't and wouldn't go back; it was either freedom or death. But a camp, where I am ridiculed is no life for me." Genderbend :)
1. In the Shadow of the Moon

My feet pounded the soft earth as rain spit upon me, as so many others had. I could hear his yelling, it barreled around my ears; falling into my skull and murdering my brain.

But, I had to keep running.

I sucked in rain and air, hacking as the liquid traveled down my windpipe. The cuts on my arms opened once more, only to throw evidence of my being there to the ground. The rain stung the raw flesh of my arms and legs as I ran my fastest; my trousers were reduced to almost nothing and the oversized shirt I wore was ripped all the way up the back; it didn't protect me from the rain which fell upon me like beestings.

My hair flew around my body as the wind picked up speed; my bangs flopped before my eyes and I had no time to push them out of the way; I could hear the dogs pants, their razor claws digging into the dirt in a bloodthirsty chase to find me; their reward? My carcass.

The temperature had drastically fell from the day before; I puffed out smoke, as a dragon would, as I saw lights in the distance.

Light!

Oh, heavenly light!

There were buildings, huge buildings!

A-And cobblestone streets!

The moon was veiled by the vengeful clouds, but, I could see that it was a city! I smiled and pushed myself harder; barely feeling the mud squish between my toes.

I ran and ran until I saw a great structure all decked out in light.

the Eiffel Tower!

I was in Paris!

The howl of the two wolf hounds beat me from my joy, I glanced around frantically to see a great building with golden statues of angels looking over it; there was a great dome a top it and the inside was alight. I would never fit in there, I couldn't go inside, they would give me back to him if I did! I shook my head and ran to the right; only to glance over and see a grate, but, this wasn't any grate. It was attached to the building and you could lift it up! I smiled and with shaking fingers opened it, quietly shutting it afterwards; not that I needed to, for thunder had begun it's terror in the night, and lightening, thunder's friend, soon followed.

I threw my hand over my mouth and peeked out of the grating to see him holding the two wolf hound's leashes; the dogs sniffed the cobblestone haplessly and whined up to him, he cursed and screamed my name in anger; retreating back into the woods. I gave a sigh and sat, closing my eyes and smiling; giving a few sobs of happiness, I finally beat him...finally. I wiped my eyes and looked about me, I seemed to be in some sort of a one roomed church; it was a small, brick room with stained glass windows on every wall; on the far wall sat shelves which housed dozens of burnt candles, few of these were still aflame. There was a picture sitting behind one of the candle's whose fire burnt orange; it was a beautiful woman, her hair was dark brown and her eyes were the colour of chocolate. On her face was a slight smile, but her eyes were cold; nonetheless, her features were soft and Parisian, she reminded me of my sister; I sighed and turned away, I couldn't remember her, not now, not ever.

The room was cold and only the small candles sufficed for light; shivering I used the orange flame to light a candle beside the one of the beautiful woman. I smiled afterwards and shook out the stick, placing it in the appointed bed of rice. I stepped back and this is when I heard a slight clearing of someone's throat; it wasn't loud, but I heard it. I gasped and whipped around to find a small girl with caramel hair and hazel eyes peeking into the room! I backed away quickly as she yelled for me to stay, knocking over one of the shelves of candles.

I scurried to my feet and ran to the grate, but the grate wouldn't unlatch!

"Please!" The little girl cried, pausing my actions; I breathed slowly and stared at my nails, they were so long and so packed with dirt, my entire body was covered in the stuff! The rain was the first proper bathing I'd had in weeks! "I-I'm not going to hurt you" she whispered, her voice was so soft, like the coo of a dove. "I can help you...listen, my name is Elena de Chagny...I'm a ballet dancer...well..one in training.

Pray, what is your name?" Asked she, I slowly turned and faced her; she was pretty too. She wore a white tutu outfit with white pointe shoes; her hair was curled and her eyes were concerned.

"A-Anastasia I-Isadore" said I, fighting my shivering; the girl smiled and nodded happily.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Anastasia; come with me and we can clean you up" said she, extending her hand to me; why was she being so kind to me? No one had ever been this kind to me! "Come now, it's quite cold down here and we don't want you to catch cold, now do we?" Asked she, a smile planting itself upon her red lips. I stared at her in wonder for a moment and hesitantly took up her hand; her smile seemed to brighten and she took me up a stone staircase.

"Have you eaten yet?" Asked she, turning halfway to me; I paused as I pondered the question, when was the last time I had eaten? She tugged my arm and got me walking again. "Never mind, I'll get you some food anyways; it's a damnable night and everyone is a bit famished" she said leading me out of the staircase; just before she pulled me out of the cover of darkness I gasped and jumped back, yanking my hand from hers and flattening myself against the wall.

There were other people here! What if they saw me? Would they give me over to him? The little girl turned, her eyes filled to the brim with concern and curiosity. "What's the matter?

I'm taking you to my dressing room...and then I'll get you some food. But, you have to come out" said she, I sighed quietly and glanced pitifully up to her. Realization at once passed over her face. "The people" she said softly "you're worried about the people" she added, I nodded quickly and she smiled. "Don't worry about them, they're too drunk to remember anything, come, we must hurry, Madame Giry needs me back in twenty moments time" said she, grasping my hand and pulling me out of my safe zone.

I hurried beside her as my bare feet flopped on the cold stone; she opened a light, wooden door and allowed me inside. The room was painted powder blue and there sat brown furniture in the main area; along with a little desk, a full length mirror, and a flowered dressing screen. A red curtain separated this room from a small, pink bedroom; complete with a pink bed and wardrobe. Into the room with the bed she led me where she opened her wardrobe to reveal several beautiful dresses.

She smiled. "You're welcome to any and all of them, if you fancy it" said she, I nodded to her and inspected a few dresses; none of them struck me. I wasn't picky, I just preferred trousers and a shirt. I smiled to her.

"D-Do you have any trousers...a-and a cotton shirt...possibly?" I asked quietly; she grinned and dug in her wardrobe for a moment; giving an exclamation of discovery and returning to me bearing black trousers and a white, cotton shirt. I thanked her and was about to drop my oversized, ripped shirt when she stopped me.

"No, no, to the bath with you!" Said she, leading me to a small WC with a large, white, porcelain tub sitting in the midst of it. She filled this with steaming hot water. "Here is soap and a towel" said she, giving to me a yellow, rectangular bar of soap and a brown, scratchy towel. I thanked her and she smiled "whilst you're washing I'll go get you some food, okay?" Asked she, I nodded and she nodded as well, shutting the door on her way out.

As I sat in the steaming hot water I thought, 'what in the hell just happened?'

** Elena returned as I laid upon the furniture; it was so lush and so comfortable, I feel asleep! Her giggle woke me. "I've brought food" said she in a soft voice, I nodded and rubbed my eyes; sitting up, she grasped my arm and led me to a small table where a platter of juicy, plump chicken sat along with creamy potato mash and noodles slathered in cheese. I hadn't ever seen such an array of colours sitting upon my plate before! I thanked her quietly and she sat before me, smiling to me as I inhaled the food before me.

I stuffed my face as full as I could get it, gulping down the large bundle and starting upon another. Elena stopped me, however. "So, how old are you?" Asked she, I gulped down a torn off piece of chicken.

"Fourteen" I answered, she nodded.

"I'm fifteen" she replied, I nodded with a potato mash inflated mouth. "Do you know where you are?"

"Paris" I answered after a lengthy silence. Elena nodded again.

"Yes, you're in Paris, France; but, do you know what_ building_ you're in?" Asked she, I shook my head. "You, Anastasia, are in the Opera Populaire" she said with pride; I didn't understand why she used such a proud tone, what was an Opera Populaire? What did it do to make it so great as to brag about it to a stranger? I blew the questions away and nodded happily; acting as if I knew what she spoke of.

All of a sudden there came a loud, harsh knocking at the door and a woman yelled for Elena; Elena gasped and pushed me into her bed area and into her wardrobe. "Hide here, only for a bit, okay? I'll be back" she said in a hushed tone, the door was opened and there came a loud yell for her; she closed the wardrobe on me and I was amerced in darkness; the only light being that of the light that flowed through the tiny cracks between the doors. There was a confrontation between she and the loud woman and the door shut loudly; there was silence, I was alone.

** I sat in the wardrobe for god knows how long; it was when I could no longer feel my legs that I hesitantly opened the door and crept out; glancing around the rooms to be sure I was, indeed, alone.

And, I was.

I slowly walked up to the door and opened it a crack, the lights were off and there was not a voice to be heard. I opened the door a bit more and slithered out; standing on my toes and walking about. It wasn't long before I came to a large window where the moon was peeking through the clouds; I sat in the light of the moon and watched as the rain receded and the thunder was reduced to mere growls.

I glanced down to my arms and ran my fingers over the cuts; some still raw and I clenched my eyes in pain as my index finger gently touched it. These cuts were all over my body, I turned back to the large, milky moon and sighed; it was so beautifully unblemished by the hands of man. No one had ever set a harmful finger upon her; I doubt she thought of how lucky she was.

Though, she did look down upon the earth in the evenings, so she had witnessed man's cruelty.

Perhaps, not first hand, but she knows how deeply the wound runs.

It is witnessing a crime, if you ever have; you feel the struggle of the victim as the dirt they lay upon bunches beneath their fingernails as they claw the earth in despondent attempts for freedom. You cringe as their screams become so deafening it splits the night into two, unequal halves. You fall to your knees and clutch the air hopelessly, undertaking the endeavor to catch your invisible faith which, every second is fleeting from you. You wish to turn away, you wish to cover your ears and tell yourself it's all a nightmare, that it will be over soon; you're correct about one thing, it _will_ be over soon, but, at what price? Who's life has been destroyed by another?

Yet, in some cases, out of crime, there comes life; I, cheerlessly, am speaking, living proof of a crime.


	2. Opera Populaire

_Chapter Two: Opera Populaire_

_Gustave_

Father and I had just left the boat from Coney Island to Paris and stood on the pier awaiting a man I only knew by the name of Nadir.

Father, as always, wore a beautiful black suit with his shiny, white mask and velvety top hat with a satin band running 'round it and his glittering golden wedding band that never moved from his finger; especially since mother's demise. In his left hand he twirled a silver pocket watch and, his right held my own. I looked up to him and smiled, he was so tall; he was tall enough to block out the sun!

And, I was trailing in his footsteps.

Father was around six feet four inches to six feet six inches; we hadn't measured in a while. Now that I think of it, we haven't done much of anything in a while. We'd been mourning my mother, this would make it three months now, and father was just now recovering. All of a sudden, father's hand left my own and it patted my back; he then bent down to me and pointed to a tall man, not as tall as father, however; he wore a brown suit with a black, astrakhan hat and a brown beard with chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes. "Gustave, that is Nadir" said father, cracking a smile.

I smiled back; Nadir had a golden-to-hazelnut color skin and he walked with a certain swagger as he approached us from the carriage. "Erik!" The man cried; quickly extending his hand to my father and shaking his hand quickly. Father gave a weak smile and shook back. "So, on holiday, hmm?"

Nadir asked, father nodded and introduced me to the man; Nadir bent down a bit and shook my hand. I was five foot, five inches tall; the smallest man out of the group, which was, in all honesty, completely embarrassing. To walk between two men who were six feet, or almost that, tall; and to be a foot shorter? Not good at all, then again, I was still growing; I was only fifteen. Father grasped my hand again and the two men chatted, leading me to the carriage; father said our luggage would be taken straight to the hotel since we were labeled 'priority' customers.

All of a sudden, we drove by a building, a Napoleonic building to be precise, with a green dome and golden angels watching over it. All of the windows were alight and the doors were flung wide open; posters for ballets and opera's were plastered on little stands before the grand staircase that led to the door. My mouth fell to my feet; it was beautiful! "Oh...my...god..." I whispered; father and Nadir turned and smiled.

"That's the place we came here for, Gustave. That's the place where mummy and I met." Father said as we watched the building pass by; he sighed. "I built that place; it's the Opera Populaire, it took fourteen years to build, and every second of them paid off when I saw your mother sing, Gustave" father said, before I turned and stared at him curiously.

"Y-You mean, you built that place?" I asked in astonishment; he chuckled.

"Yes, son. I built the Opera Populaire, a castle for the Shah-in-Shah of Persia, several normal houses, a gothic church, and helped Giovanni with numerous projects in Rome." He explained; my eyes grew large, I had always had an interest in architecture, now I understood why. I laid against the back of the seat in the carriage and smiled.

"You _must_ tell me what happened in those adventures" I said to him with a grin; he smiled fully now.

"Perhaps I'll write a book someday" said he; Nadir punched his arm playfully.

"That will be the very same day that pigs sprout wings and fly over our heads!" Nadir cried, causing us all to give light chuckles.

** We spent around an hour at our hotel, retrieving our luggage and rooms and then we were off again! Nadir took us to all sorts of places, the Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre, and the Eiffel Tower before the sun began to set and my eyelids hung low. But my brain was constantly thinking of that Opera Populaire; that night there was a terrible storm, and I thought, as I laid awake in my bed, I heard dogs barking and howling. Of course, when I checked out of my window there was no such thing; I had to be dreaming.

The next morning Nadir took father and I to a small bistro where I asked them about the howling. "I heard it too" Nadir said "dogs roam the streets, so, I'm guessing that's what it was" he finished.

"But, Nadir, they sounded like they were following something. My friend's father, Cyrus, has dogs that he uses to hunt for raccoons and I swear that's what those dogs sounded like...like they were hunting for something..." said I; father smiled down to me, barely touching his food.

"It's probably nothing, Gustave, don't fret about it. However, I've thought over something. I love Paris, and, Gustave, it's a wonderful environment for you to grow up in...I'm sure Madame Giry can keep Coney Island up and running. I just...I can't go back to Coney Island, Nadir." Father said, his head falling into his hands causing his shoulders to hunch. Nadir patted father's shoulder.

"It's quite alright, Erik, it's a natural feeling. You and Gustave are welcome in Rue de Rivoli, always; for however long your heart desires." Nadir assured, father nodded and thanked Nadir in a choked voice; his shoulders began to quake and bounce up and down, he was crying, a sight I saw far too often. I wrapped my arms around his incredibly boney waist and hugged him, assuring him that I was still there.

** That day, after father composed himself, the duo took me to the Opera Populaire! It was a Napoleonic building of gargantuan size as I've explained before; a green dome sat atop it and golden angels peered over the roof, onto the streets of Paris watching the pedestrians make it safely across the streets. Paris is a bustling city, but, when compared to New York, it's nothing more than a village! However, more wealthy people live in Paris than in New York, and it shows. Women walked around wearing the latest fashion with cotton balls of dogs on golden leashes, men wore their finest suits made entirely of spun silk, pastries were topped with gold shavings and jewelry stores were always filled to the brim with people; Paris was booming with wealthy people.

But, as father would show me later, the suburbs, outside of Paris were slums; the unlucky ones that couldn't afford a home in the direct area of Paris were pushed off to the slums were most of the poorer or middle class people lived; homeless people sat on every corner and the streets stunk of both human and animal excrement. Old food and trash littered the streets whilst a drug dealer or two could be seen wandering about the alleyways.

Anyways, getting back to the Opera Populaire, the doors were flung wide open and we ('we' being 'I') ran inside as fast as I could; it was amazing! The lobby was huge and painted golden! A light brown, marble floor led up to a grand staircase made out of marble as well, standing on the rails were two, large, golden females with a candelabra in one hand. Then, there was a landing and a smaller staircase led off to the left, and another to the right! There were two levels to the lobby and little, marble balcony's jutted out from the walls, so the people on the second level could look down to the first level.

The ceiling was the most exquisite artwork my eyes had ever lain on! It was a mural of cherubs painted in silent colours with smashing details that left you hungry for more! The detail crafted in each and every thing in just the lobby left me dazzled. Father smiled at my reaction and took up my hand, not wanting to lose me, and helped me up the stairs, pulling me to the right when we were upon the landing; he pulled us straight into the auditorium! I gasped and nearly fainted I was so overwhelmed with its majesty.

The walls and ring on the ceiling were glittering gold whilst the seats, opera boxes, and curtain contrasted this (however, the curtain contained golden tassels and golden designs running about it, like a Persian rug.) But, I had never been so in awe...so...staggered until I saw the ceiling. As I mentioned before there was a large, golden ring that ran about the top, it served as a type of catwalk where employees may walk to work on the chandelier or some such. Any who, in this golden circle were Edison's electric lights that bounced off of the chandelier which father said weighed six tons; it was six tons of golden embellishments such as tassels, crystals, candles, glass, and golden beads. The ceiling from which it hung on was the thing that almost gave me a heart attack; there appeared to be scenes from Faust and other opera's painted upon it, but, if you stood from afar it appeared as if there were colourful patches near the chandelier on a background of gold.

It isn't possible to do this place justice, for, putting such ornate magnificence into words is unfeasible!

Father sat me down in a chair whilst I almost hyperventilated; the beauty, the virtuoso of this place ripped the air straight out of my lungs! Father smiled as I sewed myself back together. "I want to show you one more place before we leave to Jardin des Tuileries." Father said, I nodded quietly and he grasped my hand, pulling me up the stairs to the opera boxes, leading me straight to the fifth one. He lead me inside and both the walls, seats, and floor were all red velvet, however, there was a white column in there, along with a wooden chair with a footstool.

"Gustave, I watched your mother sing from this box every day" said he, sighing and wiping his eyes; Nadir pulled him out of the box, leaving me alone. There was a quiet whispering from beside me, but, the only thing beside me was a column! I even heard what the voice whispered, it said:

"Gustave, what a cute name." I paused and leaned closer to the column.

"H-Hello? Is there anyone in there? And...uh...thank you...it was my grandfather's name." I said, feeling my cheeks heat; I got a compliment, I hadn't really gotten compliments before. There was silence for a long time, and then, suddenly, the voice came again!

"Y-You can hear me?"

"Yes, I can hear you" I answered, it sounded feminine, the voice. It was quite sweet, too. The voice didn't come back for a long time, and I got worried. "Oh, please, don't go away, have I scared you?" I asked quickly; I wasn't very good at making friends, to be honest, I had but only two.

"Oh, no...you didn't. C-Can you see me?" The voice asked, I looked all around the box and the column.

"No, I can't see you, but I can hear you perfectly well. Pray tell, where are you? Why are you hiding? I don't bite, I promise" said I, smiling; I heard scuffling and the voice came again.

"I...I can't...you don't want to see me; I'm not pretty to look at. I'm glad, you sound nice...do you...do you sing?" The voice asked tentatively. I smiled.

"Oh, nonsense! I bet you're the most beautiful thing that walks the earth! No, I don't sing, believe me, father's tried to train me; however, I can play the violin and the organ. Do you sing?" I asked, stepping closer to the column, pressing my ear to it and waiting for the voice to say something else.

"You'd be the first one to tell me so, monsieur; you're too kind." The voice paused and it sounded like sniffling. "That's wonderful, I don't believe I've ever heard a violin before; I heard an organ in church once. I've never sang before, monsieur, but, I'm pretty sure I can't." The voice finished, the voice originated in the column, I was sure of it now.

"Oh, I'd tell you how beautiful you are every day, to make sure you don't forget it! Perhaps, sometime, I can bring my violin and play it for you; its a Stradivarius, you know. I'd bet my allowance your voice is like the trumpets of the heavenly angels as they descend upon Earth; so, uh, how long are you staying here, at the Opera Populaire?" Asked I; all of a sudden I felt a warm sensation on the column, whatever it was, whoever she was, was in the column!

"Monsieur, you don't understand how much I would love that." The voice gave a small laugh. "You've brought me to tears, monsieur! I, uh, I guess I'll be here forever...and you, monsieur? Please, tell me you're not leaving" the voice said urgently. I smiled and laid my head against the column.

"Well, then, I'll do it, every day before school I'll come here and tell you how beautiful you are. Forever, you say? Perfect, so will I! Well, father wants to take me to Jardin des Tuileries with Nadir...but, don't fret, we're coming back tonight to watch the ballet. We'll watch it here, and I'll be here; do you go to school?"

I asked, leaning my body fully upon the column, hoping it would topple over and I would see the girl inside the column, like in the cartoons. "Oh, monsieur, you're too kind, but, yes, that...that is so wonderful...that would make my life worth living. You're going to Jardin des Tuileries? Oh, that place is magnificent, if you could...could you pick me a flower, please? I haven't seen flowers in a while, save dead ones; and I'm a little tired of staring at dead daises and roses.

But, you don't have to if you don't want to; it's entirely your choice." The voice paused "I haven't gone to school before, however, my mother did teach me everything she knew, she said that I know simple math and English, but, reading is a bit hard for me. Can you read?" The voice asked; I smiled, I would bring her the most beautiful flower in all of the gardens! If I had to pick every single flower from the gardens to find it, I would!

"Yes, mademoiselle, I can read; I love the Sherlock Holmes series, along with a few works from Shakespeare. I can quote some for you! _'If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand. To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. Juliet: Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. Romeo: Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?_

_Juliet: Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. Romeo: O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. Juliet: Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. Romeo: Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged._

_Juliet: Then have my lips the sin that they have took. Romeo: Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.'_" I paused to breathe and allow her to soak it in, it was my favorite quote, and I knew she would enjoy it.

"That was...beautiful; pray, tell me another" the voice asked, I smiled; the voice, her voice, was beyond beautiful.

"That was a quote from Romeo and Juliet, here's another: _'But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. Be not her maid, since she is envious; her vestal livery is but sick and green and none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! Oh, that she knew she were!'_" I finished, turning away from the column and allowing my back to rest upon it. There was a few moments of silence before the voice came again.

"Oh, such beauty with words! Was that also from Romeo and Juliet?"

"Yes, mademoiselle, Shakespeare had a way with words; a way to turn even the most horrid sentences into something of marvelous quality." Said I, closing my eyes and sighing.

"Monsieur, what is Romeo and Juliet about?" The voice asked, I smiled.

"Two star-crossed lovers; Romeo Montague and Juliet Capulet. Their families hated each other, no one knows why, it was just an ancient fight. Romeo met Juliet at the Capulet's party after being left by a woman he previously loved; but, when he saw Juliet at the party, he saw true love. As you may have told, Juliet also fell in love with Romeo, but, she was destined to marry another; so, they met in secret and decided to be married, and so they were. However, during the party, Romeo got into a brawl with Tybalt, Juliet's cousin, and Romeo begs for their duel to be pushed off to a later date; Mercutio, Romeo's friend, decides to fight Tybalt, and Romeo finds out about this, Romeo attempts to stop the duel but is unsuccessful and Mercutio dies.

Romeo, in a rage, stabs and kills Tybalt. Romeo flees the scene, and, when the prince found out about this, he banished Romeo forever. However, the friar that married Romeo and Juliet, arranges for them to be together for their wedding night before Romeo leaves for Mantua the following morning. That night, that wonderful, warm night, Romeo sneaks into Juliet's chamber and in a fit of passion they consummate their marriage and love for each other, over and over again. After night leaves, so does Romeo, that day, Juliet learns that she is to be married in three days time to the man she was original betrothed to; disgusted, Juliet runs to the friar that married she and Romeo and he concocts a plan.

She is to drink a potion, the night before her wedding, that will make her appear dead. She will be buried in the Capulet's mausoleum where she will lay in wait for Romeo and the friar, who will retrieve her and the two lovers would be free to live together for the rest of their lives. However, when the friar sends out a message to Romeo, it never makes it, the friar he sent it with becomes quarantined; Romeo only gets word that his love, his wife, is dead." I paused to lick my lips and the voice gasped; I chuckled and began again. "Romeo, in despair decides to kill himself rather than to live in a world without the one woman who ties his heart with her own, he buys a vial of poison and hurries to the Capulet's mausoleum, where Juliet's body awaits; Romeo enters and sees Juliet's body, unable to contain himself, he drinks the poison and dies by her side.

Now, Juliet wakes and sees her beloved husband next to her, his body turning cold from the crypt; she realizes he was dead and kisses him, praying some of the poison would pass onto her, but, in vain. So, she steals his dagger and plunges it into her chest, not before taking up her lover's hand and entwining it into her own; within moments, she fell, dead, upon the body of her Romeo. At seeing their children's bodies, the family ends their feud and erects a golden statue of their children holding hands, together in a peaceful Verona." I finished, there was quiet sobbing from the other side of the column. "Oh, no, have I made you cry?

I'm sorry, mademoiselle, are you in need of a handkerchief? Here, I'll leave it here, on the flip side of the column." I said quickly, placing my white, embroidered and monogramed handkerchief on the ground, right where I said I would and I stepped away. I heard more sniffling and peered around the column to see that my handkerchief was gone.

"T-Thank you, monsieur, you are so, very, truly kind." The voice said, I smiled and turned to the door to see Nadir motion to me to come outside; I nodded and held up my index finger, asking for a moment, Nadir nodded.

"Well, mademoiselle, it's sad, but, I must say goodbye; we are away to Jardin des Tuileries, I'll bring you back the most beautiful flower in all of Europe! Fare the well, Juliet, _'good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow'_ or, in this case, later tonight." I said, and the voice giggled. "Goodbye, sweet voice." I whispered.

"Goodbye, kindly Romeo" the voice said after me, I smiled and closed the door to the box; facing my father who held red, puffy rings 'round his eyes. Nadir wore a smile.

"Since when did you speak to yourself, Gustave?" Nadir asked; I smiled.

"I do it all the time, monsieur Nadir" I answered, he grinned.

"Reciting _'Romeo and Juliet'_?" He asked, eyeing me suspiciously. I shrugged and he laughed; we clambered into the carriage and rattled down to Jardin des Tuileries; I was still attempting to think of what flower I wanted to pick for the voice.


	3. Angel of Music

_Chapter Three: _

_Gustave._

Jardin des Tuileries was like a rainbow threw up on it! Flowers of all sorts and colours covered the ground around us; beautiful flowers! Wondrous flowers! Flowers of all shapes, sizes, aromas, and colours! They were all so different, and yet, they were all so appealing to the eye!

Their fragrances mixed together to create an unlikely, yet, pleasant scent; dotted every once in a while there was a sparkling lake who's surface was thinly topped with diamonds which glittered in the sunlight. We walked around the gardens for a while until father and Nadir decided to let me walk around by myself. "It's alright, Gustave, we'll wait for you here; when you're ready just come back and we'll get lunch" Nadir instructed, I nodded and hugged father, smiling at his boniness and turning away from them, following a small flock of monarch butterflies to the edge of a lake. I smiled at a small waterfall that fell quietly on the other side of the lake, turtles sunned themselves on the rocks beside of the miniature waterfall. I turned away from the lake to see father's hat poking out from behind a shrub, somehow, I knew they wouldn't leave me alone.

I sighed and remembered my mission, a gently breeze blew and a patch of flowers caught my eye; they were roses, by they weren't ordinary roses, they were whiteish pink! I hurried over to them and dug in the dirt, to find a tag to tell me their name. "White Roses" I read aloud, that's odd, I was thinking they would have some scientific name. I shrugged the oddness off and began picking them, that is, until my name was yelled. I froze to see Nadir running out from behind the bush, he grasped the flowers from me and stuffed them back inside the dirt (I know she only asked for one, but, they were so perfect, I couldn't get her any less than twelve!) "What's wrong, Uncle Nadir?" I asked quietly as Nadir sighed in frustration.

"Gustave, you're not allowed to pick the flowers; this is a conservation garden. A garden that keeps the flowers safe, you're not supposed to pick them." He explained; this puzzled me, because I saw more than one couple walking out of the park with flowers stuffed in their coats! I nodded, not wanting to see him angry, and father laid his hands on my shoulders.

"It's alright, Gustave, you didn't know any better; we'll go by the florist and buy a bouquet, okay?" Father asked, smiling; I nodded.

"Okay" said I, taking up his hand; apparently, they decided it was lunch time, for, we laid down a blanket beneath a large, oaken tree and had a picnic. All I could think of during the picnic was the voice, I remembered feeling warmth in the column as I leaned upon it, so, I knew the voice wasn't disembodied! It was a girl, a girl inside that column, but, why was she hiding? What was her name? Where was she from?

Who were her parents? How did she get inside the column? What did she look like? What perfume did she use? How royal would she look dressed in Persian robes and golden gems?

How did she bite her lip in embarrassment? How did her eyes sparkle at being paid a compliment? How did her cheeks flush at being given a kiss? How-I attempted to think, however, Uncle Nadir caused my train of thought to smash into my skull. "You're awful quiet, Gustave, everything okay?"

"Oh, yes, I'm fine, Uncle Nadir. I just have a wandering brain, is all." Said I, looking up to father and smiling; he smiled and ruffled my hair, turning back to the peach cobbler he ate, gently taking small bites, and smiling weakly at each one. We both loved peach cobbler; and I was so glad to see him eating, for the longest time after mother's demise he wouldn't even think of touching food, and so, I had to force him to eat it. After mother was killed he had been yanked down into the void of darkness and despair that people call 'depression', and, he was only just escaping it.

However, I saw his daily struggles to get up in the morning, to just, do regular activities was heart wrenching work for him, and, at the end of the day he was utterly exhausted. Though, he was improving, he was improving quickly, too; he said he was doing it for me, that I was the only reason he was still alive.

"Oh? Where's it wandering to?" Nadir asked, taking a bite of his sandwich his servant, Darius, made him.

"Different places" I replied, hoping he wouldn't ask any more questions, though, I knew it was a false hope; Uncle Nadir was a Persian Daroga, which is a Persian Police Chief; so he was always very nosey. Sometimes, too nosey for his own good.

"Namely?" He asked, I gave him a frank look and he laughed. "Come now, Gustave! What's going on in that brain of yours?" He asked, I grinned.

"To be perfectly honest, not much." I answered, causing both men to laugh; Nadir sighed.

"Really, Gustave, your father's told me that you're quite the chatterbox; what's got you all clammed up and thinking, hmm?" Nadir asked, I smiled and was about to answer when Nadir gasped. "I know what it is" he said, grinning, he elbowed father's arm. "It's a girl" he said to father, and father laughed.

"Oh, no, Daroga, Gustave has told me he doesn't talk to many people and none of them are girls; and, Gustave would never lie to me, would you, Gustave?" Father asked, turning to me with a small smile on his lips.

"No! I would never lie to you, Father, or...anyone for that matter!" I assured him; Uncle Nadir grinned.

"Good, so, Gustave, is it a girl?" Uncle Nadir asked, I sighed and bit my tongue, Uncle Nadir you sneaky devil, you!

"Oui, Uncle Nadir." I replied softly and Father turned to me, the expression of betrayal and disappointment clear upon his skeletal features. "I can explain! I only met her today" I said and father gave an audible sigh of relief. Father pulled me into a hug and I hugged him hard; I hated to see him hurt, or even the thought of him being hurt.

"So, Gustave, tell us about her! What is she like? What's her name? What does she look like? Where'd you meet her?" Uncle Nadir asked, I was still in father's arms when I answered.

"Well, I can't tell you much, for, she was hidden from me the entirety of it, but I could tell by her voice that she was beautiful. I told her she was, and she denied it, she even said that I was the first to pay her that compliment. I told her I'd pay her that every day, if she so fancied it, for beautiful people need to know how beautiful they are. She likes to listen to me tell her stories and she's educated, not properly, but she speaks better than most of the people I've heard and, is quite intelligent. She wanted me to do one thing for her, only one thing, it was to bring her a flower from the gardens, for, she said she was tiring of staring at dead flowers and yearned to see a bit of life."

I paused and looked up to father, who urged me to continue. "She's never heard a violin before, but, she heard an organ in church, so, I promised her I would play my violin for her." I finished, Uncle Nadir was smiling and father sighed happily as he held me.

"That's so very kindly of you, Gustave. Now, where did you meet her?" Uncle Nadir asked, finishing his lunch.

"The Opera Populaire" I answered, beginning to help pack away the dishes into a small basket.

"Oh? Did she mention what she does there?" Uncle Nadir asked and I shook my head. "What about her age?" He asked next, I shook my head.

"But, her voice causes me to think she's somewhere around the thirteen to fifteen range." I answered, and, we finished lunch in silence.

** The ballet began at seven, intermission was at eight, and the show ended at nine forty five. For an hour father and I sat in our hotel room, he with a book in hand, and I staring at the bouquet of flowers we bought for the voice; it was a mixed arrangement of white roses, red roses, and a singular golden rose, oh, I knew she would love it! However, once the clock struck five thirty, I sprang from the bed and hurried into the WC, bathing myself and making sure to clean myself extra well; afterwards I towel dried my jet black hair (which, I inherited from father, but, I gained my blue eyes from mother) and combed it back, sneakily taking a bit of father's hair gel and gelling my hair back, like he did. I gelled the bottom of it to a curl, like he did, and smiled at my appearance; little did I know, when I was combing my hair, he had slipped into the bath. Now, he came out of the bath, wrapping a lime green towel 'round his lower body; I smiled at him and ran out of the WC, to my silken tuxedo that matched father's.

I pulled on my tuxedo coat and he emerged from the WC, almost dressed! He went to his closet and pulled on his jacket and placed a sleek, white mask over his face; he looked incredibly handsome, and he knew it too. He took up a black box and strutted over to me, I laughed at him and he smiled as he knelt down to me and opened the box. "Gustave, these are cufflinks" father began, he now pointed to a golden pair that were in the shape of roses. "I wore these the very first time your mother and I met" he smiled and now pointed to another golden pair, but, they were in the shapes of little masks.

"These I wore when we saw each other again, the very night I gave her the score she would sing for the very last time" he said, his voice fading off and his breath turning shaky; I hurriedly took up the two masks and smiled to him.

"Thank you, father" I said, hugging him; I took the mask cufflinks, for, I wanted to spare him a night's sadness. He needed a relaxing, happy night.

** At six o'clock father and I left our hotel room to pick up Uncle Nadir at his home in Rue de Rivoli; by my pocket watch, we arrived at the Opera Populaire at exactly six thirty seven pm. Father held tickets to box five, which, he gave to me as soon as we entered the large opera house. As we walked about, I spotted no one my age! No young adults! It was only elderly citizens and adults; this confused me, young people like me could enjoy such things as ballet and opera too!

Father had taught me such a liking for the lavish at an early age, and by goodness, am I glad he did. I pulled on father's sleeve and he glanced down to me. "I'll be in the opera box" said I; he nodded and watched me as I ran up the stairs to the auditorium; as I was running, however, I smashed into someone! I merely stumbled backwards, but, the other person fell. "Oh, I'm so terribly sorry!" I cried, turning to see that I knocked down a little, blonde girl in a white ballet uniform. I extended my hand to her, but, she slapped it away.

"Watch where you're going next time, genius." She spat, standing back up on her own and catching sight of the flowers. "Who are those for, you're girlfriend? Oh, wait, you couldn't get one if she came begging on her knees to you" the girl hissed, I paused and took a step away from her.

"I'm sorry I bumped into you, mademoiselle, I meant nothing personal by it; there is no reason to be rude, I have infringed no harm upon you." Said I; the girl rolled her eyes and shoved me out of the way, into a seat. I shook my head, some people in this world are just plain...divas. I turned and walked away, up the opera boxes and to box five; I smiled at the column and knocked on it. "I-I'm here, and I brought you flowers, mademoiselle" said I, my fingertips became cold and, I was nervous!

I became nervous that she wouldn't be there, that she was gone forever, however, only a few moments later I heard scuffling and felt warmth upon the column. I repeated my sentence. "Oh, th-thank you, monsieur! Please, just place it where you put your handkerchief." The voice instructed, and, I did so.

"They're lying there, so, mademoiselle, I was uh...wondering a few things about you" I started, knowing I wasn't off well.

"Oh?"

"Yes, I...what would you like me to call you? A name of some sort, what name would you like for me to bequeath you?" I asked, placing my hand on the column, to feel where she leaned against the column.

"Well...that name you said yesterday, I liked...'Juliet', I mean. Or, 'Sweet Voice' works too." Said the voice and we both laughed.

"...Father told me of a nickname he called my mother, it was 'Angel of Music' and they would call each other that all the time; I think it's quite romantic. So...would you like me to call you that? Or, I can call you Juliet, whichever you fancy." I said, very quickly; the voice giggled.

"I like 'Angel of Music', kindly Romeo." The voice answered and I smiled with a sigh of relief.

"Good, I do too. You are deserving of such a name; it suits you perfectly...just like those flowers." I said quietly; I peeked around the corner of the column to see that the flowers were gone; I grinned.

"You bought these! Oh, kindly Romeo, you need not of!" The voice cried; I smiled.

"I figured a bouquet because if one flower dies, you still are left with twenty three. Besides, it's a mixture of roses; I wanted to give you a variety." I said with a smile; all of a sudden I heard Uncle Nadir and father's voices; I gasped. "Angel of Music, I must away, my uncle and father are coming, I'll speak with you at intermission." I said quickly, taking my seat, but, I still heard her voice.

"And I will be here, kindly Romeo. I'll be right here."

** I smiled and held the play card, something warm built up in my chest and crawled through my body until it painted my cheeks pink; I didn't know what it was, I only knew it made me joyous and, well, giggly.

Father and Uncle Nadir came in moments later, champagne glasses in hand. I sat between them and in moments, the ballet began! As we watched the ballet I saw the little diva that I ran into (literally) earlier! I pointed her out to both father and Uncle Nadir and told them of my misadventure. "Some people, Gustave, are just mean like that, they don't really have a reason why, they just are" Uncle Nadir explained; I nodded and the ballet continued. The little diva messed up only once, and I hate to say it, but, I laughed and so did many, many others.

**Intermission and father ran to the WC whilst Uncle Nadir went back to the lobby for more champagne and wine. I stood and walked to the column. "Angel of Music, are you still there?" I asked and this was immediately followed by:

"Oh, yes, I told you I would be!" The voice answered, there was a pause and the voice continued. "The music in this ballet is so wonderful, so melodic and whimsical, when I close my eyes to it I feel like I'm on a cloud. A fluffy, white cloud that floats so high above everything no one can touch it; what do you think it's like up there, kindly Romeo? To see everything from the sky, what do you think it would be like?"

The voice asked; I had closed my eyes and leaned against the column, enjoying her warmth and imagining myself and she on a cloud, floating high above Paris. "I know not, Angel of Music, but, I bet it would be serene. To just lazily lay on cotton all day, and float, not a care in the world. It would be absolutely wonderful." I answered, sighing. "Angel of Music, where were you born?" I asked, I knew it was a bit sudden, but, I was curious.

"To be completely honest, not on a cloud." The voice answered and we both giggled. "I know not, kindly Romeo" the voice paused and sighed. "My story is a saddening one, and, my, to sadden you would be a sin! I dare not tell you, for I do not want to sin" The voice answered, I smiled.

"You're an angel, you cannot sin. It is completely impossible, besides, if saddening me were a sin it wouldn't have been made so impossible, my dear." I said and she giggled.

"Regardless if it is sin or not, I don't want to sadden you on a wonderful night as this, perhaps, perhaps I'll tell you one day when you play me your violin after school for me." The voice said, I grinned.

"Then it is settled upon! I shall play you my violin and you tell me your story, agreed?" I asked, leaning against the column.

"Agreed, kindly Romeo." The voice replied, I smiled and, without thinking, I hugged the column! The voice giggled. "You hugged me" she said and I sighed.

"I'm quite an avid hugger, so, get used to that if we're going to know each other forever." Said I, and, again she giggled.

"Oh, that's perfect! I love hugs" the voice said; I smiled and heard Uncle Nadir yell for my father, and then, I heard their footsteps grow closer.

"I'll speak with you when this ends, Angel of Music, okay?" I asked, beginning to make my way back to my seat.

"Okay" said the voice, I sighed and sat down again, and just in time too! Father and Uncle Nadir came bounding back into the room, this time, with a champagne glass for me too.


	4. Forgive Me

_Chapter Four: Forgive Me_

_Gustave._

I had only the time after the ballet to whisper a goodbye to the voice inside the column; apparently, father would take me sightseeing the next day and Uncle Nadir would sign me up for the School of Arts here in Paris. However, that night, I did nothing but lay in my bed and smile up at the ceiling; I had an angel, now, an Angel of Music.

** Father showed me around Paris the next day, but my mind floated back to the Opera Populaire, back to the voice in the column. Every now and again father would notice my absentmindedness and ask me a question, which, I would either not reply to, or just nod to; this gave him quite the laugh! At dinner that night he and I sat in a small, Parisian restaurant, he smiled to me. "Are you thinking of that girl you spoke of earlier?" Asked he, drinking a sip of his red wine; I nodded and smiled. "Where does she hide?" Father asked before I could say anything.

"In the column, in box five." I answered and father paused.

"Box five? In the column?" He asked, his tone turning urgent, I nodded. "How are you so sure?" He asked, leaning closer to me.

"Well, I leaned on the column and I felt that it was warm and her voice originated from around that area, so, I put two and two together." I explained and father sat back in his seat, he wasn't relaxed, however. At the end of dinner he addressed me about this subject once again.

"Would you be fine to visit the Opera Populaire again, Gustave?" Asked he, I smiled and had to keep myself from excitedly jumping at the chance!

"Yes, father, I would love to" said I, grinning; I was going to see my Angel of Music again! I hurried him out of the restaurant and yanked him to a carriage; he was chuckling behind me. Into the carriage we went and I smiled excitedly, father sitting beside me, holding my hand within his own.

** The Opera Populaire was as busy as ever, for, there was a show being preformed! Somehow, father was able to get us inside the Opera Populaire and up to box five! I asked him to wait outside and I would introduce him to her, that is, if she was still awaiting me in the column. I knocked on the column. "Angel of Music, are you there? It's me, Gustave." Said I, very close to the column; there came a gasp a few moments later and quiet shuffling; some of which sounded like came from behind me.

"Oh, kindly Romeo, you're back! Have you brought your violin?" The voice said excitedly, save, the voice didn't come from the column; it came from behind me! I turned and saw curtains, red, velvet curtains and smiled.

"No, Angel of Music, I did not; I came to speak with you a bit more...I do love talking with you." I confessed, twiddling my thumbs.

"Oh, that's completely fine, kindly Romeo! I need not a song tonight; h-how long are you staying here tonight?" The voice asked, her tone turning from joyous to nervous in seconds.

"As long as you'd like me to, Angel of Music." I replied, stepping closer to the curtain and reaching my hand out; touching the velvet fabric which was warmed by her body heat.

"Oh? So you're never going to leave, then?" She asked and we both giggled quietly. After a short pause, I sighed.

"Angel, if I may, may I dance with you in fields of flowers that turn to you for light? May I hold you until dawn comes asunder? May I sing with you in the summer rain and swim with you in little creeks where fish swim among our feet? May I hold your hand like glue holds us together? May I..." I paused and fell to my knees before the curtain; biting my lip and puffing out my chest, in attempts to gain confidence.

"May I kiss your lips of ruby every night, upon the top of the Opera Populaire, where the moon hangs low and stars twirl themselves in your hair? My I, my Angel of Music?" I asked, pausing; I heard short, small sobs. "Oh, have I made you cry, my Angel of Music?" I asked, shuffling towards the curtain.

"Oh, kindly Romeo, these are tears of joy and surprise! I have never heard someone speak so nicely about me, oh, I mean not to disappoint but, kindly Romeo, I don't believe reality will be as beautiful as your words taste. I'm really not as beautiful as you say..." she replied, sniffling.

"Rubbish!" I said quickly; I paused and sighed, touching the curtain once again and playing with its golden fringe. "Well...won't you come out and allow me to be the judge of that, angel?" I asked and she sighed; the curtain shifted a few times.

"Yes, I...I guess you're right" she whispered and in that moment I backed away; I felt so many emotions at once, I was excited to see her and terrified to, I was joyous to finally see my Angel of Music's face, but, at the same moment, hesitant about it. Her fingers curled 'round the curtain and I slowly stood; sighing and biting my lip as, out of the darkness I spotted two, beautiful, blue glittering eyes. I was paralyzed when I first caught sight of them, they were as clear as the sky on a summer's day and as deep blue as the deepest, bluest ocean on the planet! It seemed all the air was pressed from my lungs in those few moments, even though I could only see her eyes! All of a sudden, the door to box five was thrown open and Uncle Nadir came bounding into the room, before I knew it I was slung over his shoulder and the beautiful, blue eyes had disappeared!

"Angel of Music!" I screamed, pounding on Uncle Nadir's back. "Let me go, let me go to my Angel of Music! Let me go, Nadir! I must see her, I must see my Angel!"

I yelled, kicking and struggling as father swept into the room and closed the door behind him. My heart fell to my feet and I screamed for her to run; I didn't know what they wanted with my Angel of Music, but, I didn't like the maliciousness and tightness with which Uncle Nadir carried me. He carried me down to a closet and threw me inside, hurriedly following after and slamming the door shut after him. "Shut it, boy!" Uncle Nadir hissed in a whisper.

"What are you doing to her?" I asked, standing away from him, gritting my teeth whilst my hands formed fists.

"Nothing harmful, we-"

"Then, why did you take me out of there?" I growled and Uncle Nadir pondered the question for a few moments.

"Your father wanted to have a few words with her, alone." Uncle Nadir replied, I ran forwards and attempted to push past him, but, he shoved me back and I fell away, falling upon broom sticks and cleaning products.

"Why would you do this?" I asked in disbelief; Uncle Nadir sighed.

"To keep you safe, you don't know what she looks like or who she is; what if she's a murderer?" Uncle Nadir asked, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

"She was just about to show me who she was, you _fool_!" I yelled, standing from the broom sticks. "I was just about to look upon an angel, before you ran in and tore any chance she has of trusting me again! I, oh, I hate you!" I yelled.

"Gustave, you don't mean that"

"Damn if I don't! I hate you, I hate you, I _hate_ you!" I screamed, Nadir closed his eyes and gingerly touched his chest where his heart was, good, I wanted him to be hurt! He looked up to me, however, with eyes of glass and tears spilling over them; I huffed and shoved him out of the way, bursting through the door and running back to box five as fast as I could; Uncle Nadir shuffling after me. I banged on the door furiously with my fists, crying out for my angel; explaining to her what happened, demanding father open the door; however, I never said I hated father, because, I didn't.

Besides, it would break him beyond repair if he heard those words pass my lips in direction to him; he was too fragile, besides, I loved him, and he was the only real flesh-and-blood family I had left. "Father, please" I whispered after screaming until my voice turned horse. "Father, I beg of you, open the door, _please_, I must see my angel again; father..._please_..." I pleaded, but, there was no answer, there was no nothing! The entire room was completely silent, and, when I peeked in through a high peep hole I saw that no one was in the box at all! But, that was impossible!

I sighed and placed my back against the door, sliding down until my bottom touched the carpet. "Angel of Music...forgive me."


	5. Strange Rooms Beneath Box Five

_Chapter Five: Strange Rooms Beneath Box Five_

_Anastasia _

I wondered around the Opera Populaire endlessly, it seemed. It was seventeen floors tall! Not even counting the five cellars that sat beneath the ground! However, no one really went down there, so, I made it a point to go down there; I didn't want any hiccups with the performers. During the day, I walked in the shadows and hid behind props or, stayed in Elena's room, however, at night the Opera Populaire was mine and I was free to roam about as I pleased (after midnight, of course, midnight was when the owners left the Opera to go home).

One day, however, I was walking about the boxes, for, no one comes to the boxes during the day, and I walked into infamous box five; the same box the Opera Ghost claimed as his own during the strange affair Monsieur Gaston Leroux coined 'The Phantom of the Opera'. I smiled at the box, it was seemingly normal, seemingly. I walked to a white column that stood on the right side of the room and rested against it, I sighed and knocked 'A Shave and a Haircut' on the column, giggling to myself that the Opera Ghost might hear it, only to find, that the column was hollow! I stood away from the column for a moment and circled round it, standing only an inch away from the column and scanning it's pallid, alabaster surface; at first, I found nothing, but then, on my second time 'round, I found a nail cleverly hidden in golden garnishments that was just out of my reach. I glanced around only to find a stool before the wooden rocking chair that sat on the left side of the box, before the balcony.

I grinned and ran over to it, hurriedly placing it before the column; I clambered up and, with the flick of my wrist, pulled the nail free from the column. In the next second, a panel fell from the column, but, the panel remained hinged to the column on the bottom. "Ingenious" I whispered; I peeked into the column to find more than enough standing/wiggle room for me! I stepped inside the column and glanced around to see a compartment in the floor, it was quite large, but it was empty. Then, I got an idea, I leaned out of the column and picked up the stool, placing it snuggly inside of the compartment; it fit perfectly!

I smiled at the Opera Ghost's intelligence and turned back to the door of the column, how was it to close without someone closing it from the outside? However, on the inside of the door there was a handle; I pulled the door closed with the handle, and, next to the handle there was a latch, and, I latched the door shut; voila! It was like I had never been there at all! All of a sudden, speaking rang in my ears, and it was getting closer! Oh, what was I to do?

I began to irrationally panic, only remembering moments after that I was inside of a column, I was practically invisible! I sighed happily and a man with a deep voice, not as deep so as to sound stupid, but still, manly, began speaking; he sighed and another man escorted him out of the room; the man with the deep voice mentioned something to another man whose name was 'Gustave', I had never heard that name before, and, I thought it was quite sweet. Thinking I was all by my lonesome once more, I thought aloud. "Gustave, what a cute name." And to my surprise (and horror) a voice answered me!

Someone else was in the room!

"H-Hello? Is there anyone in there? And...uh...thank you...it was my grandfather's name" The voice (named Gustave) replied to me; my hands shot to my mouth and covered my lips; I couldn't talk, column's don't talk! After a long silence, and moments of hearing him shifting in the room around me, I whispered again.

"Y-You can hear me?"

"Yes, I can hear you" The man named Gustave replied, he was standing quite close to me and I wanted to run away; but, I couldn't, I had trapped myself in this column! Oh, cruel fate, what design have you made for me? As I pondered this, the man named Gustave spoke again. "Oh, please, don't go away, have I scared you?" The man named Gustave asked; I paused, he actually cared if he scared me? H-He didn't want me to go away? I snapped out of my paralysis, and answered him.

"Oh, no...you didn't. C-Can you see me?" I asked, that was what I was afraid of, I didn't want to be seen. I wasn't in the best of shape, or at my prettiest, and, this man, just by his voice, I could tell that he was well-educated and quite handsome. Most men who come to the Opera are.

"No, I can't see you, but I can hear you perfectly well. Pray tell, where are you? Why are you hiding? I don't bite, I promise" Gustave said, I smiled, I'd surely hope he didn't bite! I sighed and twiddled my thumbs.

"I...I can't...you don't want to see me; I'm not pretty to look at. I'm glad, you sound nice...do you...do you sing?" I asked quietly, in desperation to change the subject.

"Oh, nonsense! I bet you're the most beautiful thing that walks the earth! No, I don't sing, believe me, father's tried to train me; however, I can play the violin and the organ. Do you sing?" Gustave asked, I heard scuffling and his voice was extremely close, he was just outside of the column! I smiled at his flattery, I really wasn't beautiful, I had so been told that for years.

"You'd be the first one to tell me so, monsieur; you're too kind." I paused and sniffled, tears bit at my eyes, but, they were happy tears; hearing such things, that someone appreciated me, even such a simple thing as that caused me to be an emotional wreck. "That's wonderful, I don't believe I've ever heard a violin before; I heard an organ in church once. I've never sang before, monsieur, but, I'm pretty sure I can't." I answered to the singing question; once, with the band of gypsies, I snuck out of the camp one night and to a church where the preacher was playing the organ, it was slow and melodic; I felt my soul sway with the tempo!

"Oh, I'd tell you how beautiful you are every day, to make sure you don't forget it! Perhaps, sometime, I can bring my violin and play it for you; its a Stradivarius, you know. I'd bet my allowance you're voice is like the trumpets of the heavenly angels as they descend upon Earth; so, uh, how long are you staying here, at the Opera Populaire?" Gustave asked; my hands had to rush to my mouth and another pushed away tears from my eyes; I sighed and smiled, his allowance must be very low to bet it on my voice!

"Monsieur, you don't understand how much I would love that." I laughed dryly. "You've brought me to tears, monsieur! I, uh, I guess I'll be here forever...and you, monsieur? Please, tell me you're not leaving" said I, in the few moments that I had with this Gustave man, I had grown to enjoy his company, and, that's saying something!

Seeing as how I avoid people at all costs, then again, I was forced to speak with him by my own fault. "Well, then, I'll do it, every day before school I'll come here and tell you how beautiful you are. Forever, you say? Perfect, so will I! Well, father wants to take me to Jardin des Tuileries with Nadir...but, don't fret, we're coming back tonight to watch the ballet.

We'll watch it here, and I'll be here; do you go to school?" Asked he, I sighed, I longed to go to school, it was one of the only things I wanted to do; to learn things, strange things, wonderful things! To be educated, to hold intellectual conversations with people! To be as ingenious as this Opera Ghost! To be...smart.

"Oh, monsieur, you're too kind, but, yes, that...that is so wonderful...that would make my life worth living. You're going to Jardin des Tuileries? Oh, that place is magnificent, if you could...could you pick me a flower, please? I haven't seen flowers in a while, save dead ones; and I'm a little tired of staring at dead daises and roses. But, you don't have to if you don't want to; it's entirely your choice."

I paused, I had just blurted out what was on my mind! I must stop with that! "I haven't gone to school before, however, my mother did teach me everything she knew, she said that I know simple math and English, but, reading is a bit hard for me. Can you read?" I asked, knowing that he could; we spoke more and, he told me the story of the tragic, star-crossed lovers _'Romeo and Juliet'_ and so I coined the name for him 'kindly Romeo'.

However, I prayed with all of my soul that what happened to Romeo didn't happen to him! At the end of the tale I started crying, and this man, this gentleman, gave me his handkerchief! He gave it to me to keep! "Well, mademoiselle, it's sad, but, I must say goodbye; we are away to Jardin des Tuileries, I'll bring you back the most beautiful flower in all of Europe! Fare the well, Juliet, _'good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow'_ or, in this case, later tonight." Said my kindly Romeo, and I giggled.

"Goodbye, sweet voice." Said he for the last time, allowing his fingers to run over the column.

"Goodbye, kindly Romeo" I whispered after him, smiling like an idiot even after the door to the box was closed. I sat in box five for the longest while, weary of someone else coming in, and, thinking of the man I just met; I wondered what he looked like, where he came from, things of that sort. He had a strange accent, it was a mix of American and Parisian; he had the overall twang of an American accent, but, he spoke his words with speed and with the lavishness I found I associate with a French accent; I figured he was born here, in France, and moved to America for some time or something like that. As I stood to finally leave the column I noticed there was a random nail stuck in the floor; my brows furrowed and, without a second thought, I plucked it out with ease. The floor to the column swung open and down I fell!

I gasped, but didn't scream, and, I landed on something soft! I sat up and my hands clenched at what I landed on to find that it was a mattress, not only was it a mattress, but, it was a bed! A bed covered in silken blankets and cotton sheets with little cherries, pillows stuffed with the softest feathers and covered in white, linen patterns. White lace made up one of the many blankets that sat upon the bed and oak was the bed frame itself! I paused and glanced around to see I sat in a large room, a large room with golden, shining walls, a pink dressing screen, an oaken wardrobe, pictures a plenty, and red, velvet curtains with golden tassels and fringe.

Golden candelabra's sat in the corners of the room and the candles therein stood alight. I, cautiously, slipped off of the large bed and immediately made my way to the pictures; one was a portrait of a young woman with golden strands of hair and eyes as blue as the sky, she wore a lime green dress with a lime green bow and her hair was pulled to the right side of her face, cascading down her shoulder and ending somewhere near her elbows. Her skin was milk matte with no blemishes or boils; she was perfect! The name of the picture was _'Little Lottie'_. There was another beside it, it was a portrait of a child, a baby, in fact; it was a little boy dressed in a pink dress with a large crop of beautiful, raven black hair and sparkling yellow eyes.

But, this baby wore a mask! A dirtied, white mask! There was something else strange about the baby (besides the mask and the yellow eyes) it's eyes were pleading...pleading for help and love; what mother would cover their child's face with a mask? Though it was only but a painting, I felt that child's stare disturb me, for, I had given such a hopeless stare before, such a pleading, deprived, depressed stare; and to think that anyone else had to go through such horrors as I did hurt me worse than swords or guns (or any material object that was built to induce agony) ever could. The painting's name was _'Erik'_ just, simply_ 'Erik' _and nothing more.

Both paintings were hung in golden frames with Edwardian design and words ran 'round the frames in a language I could not comprehend or attempt to read; I was already not very good at reading English, how good could I be at any other language?

I turned away from the paintings and walked slowly to a velvet curtain, lifting it up to find that it hid the threshold to a hallway! The walls in the hallway were black and on the floor was a thick, red, Persian carpet made of plush material with golden strands spun into it. On the sides of the hallway were oaken drawers with golden handles; in the corners of the hallway were golden candelabra's that were lit also. I stepped out into the hallway and allowed the curtain to fall to a close behind me; there were four doors, with three thresholds (there was a double doored room with, golden, lion head knockers); for some reason, the double doored room caught my attention and I found that, involuntarily, I was walking to the double doors! My legs had a mind of their own!

Hesitantly, I took up the knocker and let it drop thrice, only to find that there was no answer. I stood outside of those doors for a while, until, my curiosity bubbled up inside of me and decided to explode through my hands! My hand reached out and turned the knob with a quick twist, opening the door easily enough and swinging open ominously. The walls were black, the Persian carpet on the floor was black, the bed frame was black, the lace fabric that fell around the bed from the canopy was black, the sheets, pillowcases, blankets, and dressing screen was black, the wardrobe was black, the coat rack and fireplace were black, and, more importantly, the ginormous organ that sat in the corner of the room, was black (save, it's pipes, which glittered golden). Golden candelabras sat in each corner of the room, and yet, their illumination wasn't golden; the candles shot off purple rays of light about the room.

As I entered I was pressed with a growing sense that I shouldn't be there, that I wasn't_ allowed _there, the ominous feeling in this room was almost unbearable! I attempted to turn and hurry out, save, my eye caught music sheets! I turned upon my heel and hurried over to the organ, where the music sheets were stationed, and sat down, I couldn't read books very well, but, one of the first things in life that I was taught to do was to read music, and, some of those songs, with only but the melody, made me tear up! They were so beautiful, almost _too_ beautiful for the human ear; I read those music sheets all afternoon, until, I heard commotion from above and realized, the ballet was about to begin! I had to meet my kindly Romeo back in box five!

I threw the music sheets back to where they belonged and ran out of the room, pushing my way back into the bedroom with which I fell from. I stared up at the column and sighed, how could I ever get back up there in time? That's when, it hit me, literally, I bumped into the bed, which hit the ceiling and, all of a sudden, from, yet another compartment, a ladder came falling down and smacked my head! I fell to the floor and groaned, only then did I hear my kindly Romeo asking for me; I gasped and ran up the ladder as fast as I could, climbing into the column and pulling the floor back together, securing it with the nail. "I-I'm here, and I brought you flowers, mademoiselle" said he for the second time, I sighed after huffing and puffing.

"Oh, th-thank you, monsieur! Please, just place it where you put your handkerchief." I said, attempting to breathe quieter.

"They're lying there, so, mademoiselle, I was uh...wondering a few things about you" said he after placing the flowers in the appointed spot, I waited until he walked away a bit to slowly unlatch the door and take up the flowers. Which, was a bouquet!

"Oh?"

"Yes, I...what would you like me to call you? A name of some sort, what name would you like for me to bequeath you?" Asked he, leaning on the column, I paused, what did I want him to call me?

"Well...that name you said yesterday, I liked..._'Juliet'_, I mean. Or,_ 'Sweet Voice'_ works too." I replied and we both laughed; his laugh was so wonderful, it was masculine, and yet, young. I aged him around fifteen or sixteen.

"...Father told me of a nickname he called my mother, it was_ 'Angel of Music'_ and they would call each other that all the time; I think it's quite romantic. So...would you like me to call you that? Or, I can call you _'Juliet'_, whichever you fancy." He said quickly, I smiled and giggled; he was trying to please me! My goodness, how the tables have turned!

"I like _'Angel of Music'_, kindly Romeo." I answered, leaning on the column where he leaned on it; he was so warm!

"Good, I do too. You are deserving of such a name; it suits you perfectly...just like those flowers." He said, bringing my attention back to the bouquet that I held, how dare he spend all that money on me! I told him so and he chuckled. "I figured a bouquet because if one flower dies, you still are left with twenty three.

Besides, it's a mixture of roses; I wanted to give you a variety." He replied, then, he gasped and his tone turned urgent. "Angel of Music, I must away, my uncle and father are coming, I'll speak with you at intermission." He finished, his voice growing distant, he was walking away from the column and to a seat; men's voices were prominent in the air around us now.

"And I will be here, kindly Romeo. I'll be right here." I replied, smiling to myself and listening to the orchestra tune up.

** At intermission he and I spoke more, and, it ended with he giving me a hug! I had gotten a hug! Afterwards, he couldn't speak with me, he had only time to whisper a goodbye; I sighed, that night I returned to the strange place beneath box five, but, I dare not travel into the room with the organ again, who knows what might happen there at night? I went to another door to find a dining area and kitchen! The dining area was complete with a large, oaken table and chairs with a shining, crystalline chandelier hanging above it; covered in lighted candles.

Beneath the dining table was a velvet rug with golden and ruby designs made in India; and beneath that were hardwood floors. The walls of the dining area were red and the ceiling was golden tin with pressed, Edwardian designs. The red walls and golden tin ceiling continued into the kitchen, which held black cabinets with golden knobs and handles; a large, black stove, a black pot rack hanging from the ceiling with pans still hanging from it, a black island, and beautiful, china plates. The hardwood also carried into the kitchen, and, due to this, there was another rug made in India laying upon the floor, diamond accents and silver inlays ran about this rug. The countertops were white marble with black veins (including the island that floated in the middle of the kitchen) running every which way, and the china plates sat in a cabinet with a glass door, so as to show off their beauty.

Golden candelabras sat in each corner of the room, not to mention a few littered about the kitchen (and a few mirrors hung on the walls, so as to bounce off the candle's light and make the room appear brighter than what it really is). I sat down in a chair at the dining table, it seemed that someone was still living here! And, that's what made me nervous, every single candle was lit in all the rooms I had gone to, and yet, I hadn't lit a single one.


End file.
